#grumpy dad/sunshine child

[pixiatn]

I need the opposite of that Grumpy Dad + Sunshine Daughter trope

GIVE ME MORE Bubbly Mom + Angsty Son

GIVE ME MORE BADASS MATERNAL FIGURES THAT WOULD GO BONKERS TO PROTECT THEIR KID

[rob1ndad]

“I love you in every universe.”

[bi-bliotaph]

I’m so sorry to my followers who have this sudden wall of God of War reblogs from me 😅

[brokenhardies]

i started thinking of jane and the doctor's relationships and ive come up with the real litmus test

most paternal to least paternal (not counting 15 and 6)

twelve, fourteen, eleven, thirteen, ten

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵����𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[0h-eme]

-spiderdads/roommates au-

I'm living my schizophrenic moment so Miguel and Peter have a whole dynamic in my head

It's one of the most random ships of spiderverse movie, but I like the "single sunshine dad who live with his grumpy friend and they raise their lil girl" dynamic

And yes I'm gonna pretend Peter is single, so no cheating, nonono

Wholesome old man yaoi raising a child and developing feelings for each other is my taste🧎

[colourstreakgryffin]

May I request Husk with young daughter reader? Like reader is his daughter from his overlord days and reader stayed by his side by her father when he was taken under Alastor? She a little sweet, genuine darling who loves her papa.

Hehe! Awww! I love Husk and I am so excited to write for him independently! Let’s give our grumpy cat bartender lots of love~!

Husk- Precious Kitten

May I remind you all that it’s canon that Husk is great with children and is extremely patient? So, you know that Husk is the best dad in Hazbin Hotel and his daughter is very cared for

Husk regrets losing his Overlord power to Alastor but apart of his deal with Alastor is that he doesn’t touch you nor does he keep you away from Husk. So, even though this deal is complete bullshit, he has the one thing keeping him happy

You never leave his side and Husk will fight anybody to make sure you’ll be right there. He isn’t a fan of you being around his bar but he doesn’t trust anybody with you, he wants you to be at arm’s length all the time

Husk is naturally overprotective over his young daughter because of Alastor. He went from protective, because of Hell and the dangers of being a child in Hell but now, it’s bumped up to a extreme level since he is afraid Alastor may try something to torment him

Husk may hate the domestic cat instincts and habits his current form has but that doesn’t stop him from licking your fur when he feels like you need to be clean. He’ll pick you up with his mouth, put you down on his counter and lick your fur. It’s quite cute since it’s much like a mama cat and her kitten

You’re his human child as well, hence why he is so close to you. The daughter whose birth was responsible for the love who killed his ability to love’s death. Whilst he lost his love, he gained a new one and since you did some shady things in your childhood, always linked to your father’s hand. You dropped into Hell with him when you were both shot to death

Husk won’t ever let you be around anything adult. So, that means he is much more harsh and strict with Angel Dust, demanding he acts child friendly whilst at his bar and gets into arguments with the spider sinner over you. You’re his sunshine, his limelight, his little angel. Husk won’t let anybody taint you… anymore than you already are

Husk is a bit more desperate to get back his Overlord powers since he can barely protect you in this realm, even if he is always around so he is trying to confront Alastor to break the contract. He needs to keep his babygirl safe at all causes

Husk likes to hold you in one of his arms whilst doing his bartending work with the other. Feeling his soft kitten sleeping on his chest and laying in his arm is such a comforting feeling, makes the tension blow away… it’s the only real comfort he gets in this shit sandwich of a demon life

Husk is amazing at playing with you, trust me. He is grumpy and calloused but he is actually very childish and has a vivid imagination that enables yours. He will keep you entertained and constantly learns new magic tricks to blow your cute little mind

Yes, Husk cannot stop himself from purring anytime he holds you. It’s a reflection of his joy when around you and whilst he dislikes the cat features, he can excuse the purring to focus on you

Husk has been working much later at his bar. Cleaning up bottles with his beloved little kitten, the little girl who was right there the entire time. Right next to him when Alastor first summoned Husk to the Hotel and right there when Husk became an Overlord then lost his identity to Alastor but he didn’t lose everything. He managed to keep you, Husk managed to convince the Radio Demon to let him take care of his own daughter

Husk silently stacks up the sparkling alcohol glasses, being quiet as possible. The only hearable noises are his paws shuffling on the ground, two sets of gentle breathing and light clinks of gorgeous clean glasses. Husk is staying quiet so his babygirl, Leitora, can sleep peacefully

As usual, you’ve been with him since the beginning of his shift and you’re here with him to the end of it

You’re much younger than most Sinners here. The youngest is eighteen… you’re eight. Having died so young and only at Hell because you mimicked your gambling and crime-filled father(you didn’t drink— fuck, you didn’t drink!). But Husk is so glad you’re here, he’d be suffering and entirely miserable if you were up in Heaven

He isn’t happy that you’re in the worst realm after your short life was taken away from you so abruptly and cruelly but he is also thankful that you’re okay and that you’re thriving in a area he can always overlook you

Eventually finishing up wiping down the front bar counter with a slightly damp soft cloth through those few more minutes of silent and steady working, the dark emptiness of the Hotel foyer looming over his head. Husk readjusts the way he holds you to his fluffy chest so you’re more comfortable. Ignoring how numb his forearm and hand feels, he just loves hugging you to him

It fills the void called his heart. He doesn’t have much luck with romance nor gambling but he has the best prize any man could ever want

You’re sweet, you’re precious, you’re very loving and attached to him, you’re such a nice little angel. You resemble Charlie Morningstar almost perfectly and you even have matching cat features to his. It ties the father-daughter dynamic you two share even more, making it stronger and making your bond stronger. Husk’s sharp golden yellow eyes switch inbetween hanging up the damp rag to air dry to your head laid on his shoulder, your small little face sleeping peacefully, your soft pretty eyes fluttered close

In a single blink, Husk is brought back into a livid memory. The moment resembles one he had when he was rocking a four year old you asleep on his chest, back when both of you were humans and he can’t help but feel his undead heart swell with pride and a overwhelming sense of joy at that memory

His life was quite shit, even on Earth but he had the single card of positivity in the deck of darkness, and that card is the little girl his longtime wife gave him whose ended up with him through all of eternity

As soon as he finished with this shift, the menacing darkness of the spacious room begins to linger even further but it doesn’t intimidate Husk in any fashion. He opens the employee-only entrance gate from the back-around column built into the back of the bar so he can get out. Taking his daughter with him, his glowing yellow eyes making a resemblance of a flashlight so he can lead himself through the Hotel’s extravagant hallways

Husk eventually, after a single elevator ride and a bit of rocking you in his arms so you don’t get jolted awake every time he steps in his relaxed pace, softly pushes open the door of the hotel room he shares with you and whilst he is quite tired, he prioritises your comfort and ability to sleep over his. Walking up to the cute child bed right besides his own casual big one, the colourful bed Charlie had made for you

Husk places you into the bed, drawing back the cute vibrant blankets then tucking the two layers of thick cool fabric so you’re cuddled up and comfy, the mere second he plops you onto the mattress and the pillow holding up your head. The soft purring coming out inbetween every breath sends waves of serotonin over the Hazbin Hotel bartender, enabling his own instinctive purring

Tucking his beloved child in is a familiar act Husk is quite accustom to; putting you to bed, getting you food, picking you up, playing with you, dressing you, making you smile and laugh at his magic tricks, making sure nobody will try feed you alcohol

Husk can’t help but admire his little kitten sleep for a bit longer, maybe a few seconds at most. Yeah, you’ve been with him all day, every day but he can never get tired of your presence. You’re his precious gemstone and his love for you far surpasses everything. Running a hand through your soft shorter fur, he eventually pulls away to let you rest on your own, you’ve been asleep for maybe two to three hours now and he wants you to get the needed amount undisturbed

Husk undoes his uniform, messy and too tired to even bother being tidy and sophisticated with his belongings, due to how shit this day has been, and flops onto his bed to immediately pass out. But he doesn’t do any of that before whispering out one more thing, certain that you won’t hear him and kissing your little forehead

He isn’t aware that you heard him, slightly waking up at the feel of his lips on your skin

“Goodnight, Kitten…”

[thetriumphantpanda]

i've got my love to keep me warm | joel miller

Summary | Joel agrees to spend Christmas with your family, away from the warmth of Texas, and it takes him a little while to warm up to the idea.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Grumpy x Sunshine vibes, some sweetness, some suggestive thoughts but nothing explicit, mentions of consuming food and alcohol.

Authors note | For @yeollie-plz- It's your @pedrostories secret santa!! I really hope you love this because it was good fun to put together! Happy Christmas to you!

“You know, you could at least pretend to be happy?” You tease, nudging your elbow into Joel’s side.

With the way he’s bundled up in his big coat, you’re not sure he actually feels you do it, but he grumbles all the same. Whatever he says in incoherent, but you can discern the meaning perfectly. What’s the point in being here as grown adults? What’s the point in wandering around, looking at lights and getting excited about Christmas, when, for the first time in years, there won’t be any children around?

“Come on,” You beam, taking his gloved hand in yours, “Maybe a drink with a little something in would make you happier?”

“What would make me happier would be sat indoors outta this snow.”

You roll your eyes, pulling on his hand to get him to follow you. He walks by your side, gloved hand sitting in yours as you weave through the crowds of people. Joel had wanted to stay in Texas for Christmas, something about the familiarity of it, not wanting to spend too much money on travelling at this time of year, but knowing it was his first Christmas without Sarah, now that she was all grown up with her own family, you knew that he’d be miserable, no matter that you’d be there with him, so you’d put your foot down, told him the two of you would spend Christmas with your parents up north, somewhere cooler, more festive.

He’d met them plenty of times before, they loved him, thought the sensible, stoic man was good for you. He had his head on his shoulders, a home of his own - settled, is what they’d called him. A far cry from the other boys you’d chosen in the past few years, and they were overjoyed to have a house full of people this year - your brother and his wife, you and Joel, a real family affair.

The centre of town always reminded you of being a child when you came back at this time of year. The streets filled with small stalls - some selling food, some filled with little trinkets from small businesses, all set around the main square, with its big tree, lit up and sparkling.

There’s one stall you zero in on, a small line that you stand in, still gripping at Joel’s hand as you step further towards the front each time someone walks away. You remember the first time you’d stood in this line - you were eight, and your dad had passed you a cup full of warm hot chocolate, a towering swirl of whipped cream on top. You’d sipped it so slowly, savouring the cream and the sweetness of the chocolate, and anytime you’re here, you have to get it, it’s just that these days, it’s always spiked with something.

Joel, of course, orders an Irish coffee - black, bitter coffee, split with cream and his favourite whiskey. You watch closely as he pulls one of his gloves off with his teeth, slipping it in his pocket so he can feel the warmth of it in his palm. He’s watching you just as closely as the lady hands you the cup of hot chocolate, mixed with Bailey’s, still with that tower of whipped cream too.

You both step away, standing off to the side as Joel takes the first sip of his drink. You can see the slight softening of his expression as he goes in for another sip, this one bigger than the first. He’s watching you as you dart your tongue out, taking some of the sweet cream into your mouth before you sip the drink, hissing when it burns your tongue a little.

“That’ll be hot, baby.” He teases, earning a little glare from you as he drinks his again, seemingly unaffected by the steam that rises from his own cup.

“It’s good,” You muse, holding it out to him, “Try it.”

“I don’t want none a’that,” He shakes his head, “Too sweet.”

“Joel Miller,” You chastise, pushing the cup closer to his face, “It’s Christmas, for the love of God, try the hot chocolate.”

He sighs, shakes his head in that way he always does when he knows he can’t win the battle. He hands you his drink, laughs a little when you wrinkle your nose at how strong it smells, takes yours from you and brings it to his mouth, taking a big sip, and when he pulls it away to hand back to you, you can’t stifle the giggle that falls from your mouth.

“What?” He asks, as your giggle falls into proper laughter, “What the hell’s the matter with you?” He snatches his own drink back sinking his neck down into his coat to keep the biting wind from his skin.

“Y-you’ve,” You choke out, pointing at your own nose, “You’ve g-got something here.”

You bring your hand up to his face, running the pad of your thumb over the tip of his nose, swiping the cream from his face. You go to pull it away, to wipe it away on the leg of your jeans, but Joel has other ideas, gripping your wrist to still you. He brings your hand to his mouth, enveloping your thumb into the heat of his mouth. You suck in a breath, feeling the tip of his tongue dart out against the skin, licking the cream off, before he drags your thumb from his mouth with a soft pop.

He drops your wrist from his hold, but you’re stuck, staring right at him, with the familiar throb of want settling across you.

“Thought it was too sweet for you?” You raise an eyebrow when you’ve composed yourself enough to speak.

He shrugs, takes hold of your hand and starts walking you back towards the tree, “If you’re gonna laugh at me, I ain’t gonna make it easy on you.” That familiar tone of grump is back, but you know he doesn’t mind really as he walks slowly, guiding you both to a bench that looks directly at the tree, dressed in red and gold, icy lights casting that familiar festive glow across everything.

He wipes the snow from the bench, makes sure it dry enough for you both to sit on, draping his arm across the back of it, encouraging you to curl into his side. The two of you sit for a while, watching the people come and go - young children excited to stand in line for the chance to meet Santa in his grotto, men on their own going from stall-to-stall, clearly shopping for last minute gifts, and couples, just like the two of you, wrapped up in nothing but each other as they hold hands, point things out to eat other.

“Thank you for coming,” You speak softly into his shoulder, looking up at him as he looks down at you, “I know it’s not really what you wanted, but I like that you’re here.”

“Of course it’s what I wanted,” He speaks just as softly, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, “I only ever want to be where you are baby,” He motions his head to the scene in front of you, “Even if it is in the freezing cold, surrounded by too many people, wherever I’m with you, I’m happy, okay?”

You smile at him, tilt your head slightly, as his lips come down onto yours, cold and chapped from the winter air, but oh-so familiar as they slant across your own. You open your mouth against his, let your tongue meld with his own, the bitter of his coffee mixing with the sweet of your own drink. It’s soft, gentle, and over far too quickly. He pulls away, places two more soft pecks against your mouth, and then settles back against the bench, his hand now resting on your shoulder.

A shiver settles across your bones, something to do with the fact that even a few years into your relationship, he still sets you on fire without even trying, but mainly because it’s fucking freezing. Leant against Joel’s body, you feel him shiver a little too.

“Home?” You ask.

He looks back down at you, smiling a little with a nod, “Home.”

[certainlynotasimp]

Okay here me out miggy and sunny who get ambushed by another spider but it turns out to be there daughter from the future?! I feel like they’d be shocked to see a teenager (like 18) just trying to fix a mess she made to get back home. I love all your work especially Miguel and Sunny!

Our Girl

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: Hey lovely~ So I kinda went off track a little with this one and kinda focused a little more on Maria, the daughter, and not so much her fixing the problem and more her being overwhelmed by the idea of the multiverse. I'm sorry I went off kilter but I loved the idea of seeing how they would react in general to meeting their child.

Also, I've been obsessed with this song on TikTok so I had to name their daughter after it.

A/N: If you guys wanna view more of my works then feel free to read my master list and if you wanna see what else is coming up, then check out this one-shot schedule. If you love the Sunny and Miggy fics like I do then comment on the taglist post because I add everyone who comments. I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely any use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is the Reader's nickname, not her actual name)), Female Reader/ Female pronouns, Shinangins, Kinda fluffy, kinda a crack fic lol, and Google translated Spanish ((Pls forgive me, my wonderful Spanish speakers.))

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, I guess If im gonna do this, I’m gonna have to start with the beginning, Hi I’m Maria O’ Hara and I’m-

“Kids, Breakfast is ready~!” A soft cheery voice calls out causing a groan to escape the teenager’s mouth. The sound of two pairs of feet book it past her bedroom door with the notable bang of one of them being knocked into the wall.

“Mami!” A teary voice of her seven year old brother yells. “Gabriel keeps pushing me into the wall!”

“No I’m not!” The thirteen year old cries out with a loud crack in his voice. “He keeps getting in front of me!”

“Gabriel, Ben, quit bickering and come here before your father comes down.” The gentle scolding causes the boys to continue their run down the stairs while Maria rolls her eyes and goes back to her diary.

Dammit, okay, we can work with this. Hi, I’m Maria O’ Hara. I’m 18 years old and I live in Nueva York with my mama and papa and my two brothers. I’m basically your normal teenager except for one-

“Maria?” a soft knock on her door causes her to call back through the door.

“Yes, Mama?” “Breakfast is ready, honey. Come on down stairs before it gets cold…” She can hear the cautious edge in her mother’s voice as she tries to coo her child down stairs.

“I’m on my way, Mama, just let me get finish getting dressed.” She cringes at the lie as she was already dressed and ready for her day. Maria holds her breath for a couple of minutes until she can hear her mom mutter a simple okay as the sound of heavy foot steps come up beside her.

The low baritone of her father’s whisper can be heard along with her mother’s worried tone as she can hear her trying to urge her husband down stairs to give their daughter some privacy.

Maria returns to her writing as she knows shes definitely on a ticking time bomb now that her father was up and down stairs. He was a strickler for spending meals together as a family and the only time he let go of that rule was when one was sick or when…Maria and Javi were in that accident…

She shakes the haunting image of Javi out of her mind as she writes.

I’m basically your normal teenager except for one thing. I’m Spider Woman, the one and only beloved hero of Queens.Two years ago, I gotten bite by this funky spider at my dad’s lab in Alchemax and I gained these awesome super powers. It was honestly the best thing to ever happen to me. I got to swing around and stop bad guys all before fourth period. The only person who knew was my best friend Javi-

“Maria!” A deep voice booms as Maria gritted her teeth. “¡Tu madre ya te llamó dos veces! ¡Baja y come!”

“Shit!” The teenager curses as she rushes to collect her stuff into her bag. The white and blue fabric of her spider suit shines at the bottom of the bag before her necessities get piled on top of it.

“¡¿Qué diablos dijiste?!” Her father yells as she can hear her mother yell at him. 

“¡¡Miguel, no te atrevas a maldecir en la mesa de mi comedor!!”

Maria hurries down the stairs as she listens to her family interact at the table.

A muffled voice that she figured was her mother scolds the angry man while a soft more masculine mutter apologizes. A couple of giggles can be heard before a stern voice scolds them as well for what Maria can hear, “Chicos, no le faltéis al respeto a vuestro padre. La única razón por la que tu madre puede hacerlo es porque me echará de la cama.”

As Maria makes it into the dining room, she laughs along with her brothers as their mom playfully slaps their dad’s arm. The tall dark haired man chuckles at his adorable wife before catching her hand and kisses it, causing the woman to smile with a love sick look in her eyes. 

“Eww!” Ben cries as he tries to block his vision with his toast causing the couple to roll their eyes.

Maria sits down beside her father Miguel and Gabriel as she starts to fill her plate. All of the children looked exactly like their father with only slight changes in hair textures and certain facial features. Ben, the youngest of the trio, looked the most like their mother with his eye shape and nose matching hers while the middle child, Gabriel, was a copy and paste verison of their father with only his mother’s smile indicating that they were related. Maria was a better mixture of the two with her mother’s height and face shape making her her mother’s “clone”, Miguel’s words not their’s. 

All the siblings would disagree as their matching dark brown eyes and their dark hair. They also had his temper. There wasn’t a single day that didn’t end without a fight. But they all loved each other despite the stress they put on their poor sweet mother’s heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yahooo!” The web crusader swings around the city with a laugh bubbling through her being as the adrenaline pumps through her veins. Today wasn’t that bad today when it came to crime. No cat burgalurs, no bank robberies, No super mutants, No robots, and No…

A shrilling laugh fills the sky as Maria lands on top of a building. As she looks around for the source of the noise, a figure flies over her. Several flashes of gold falls down onto the streets below and a series of explosions go off at the chilling sound of a woman’s laugh among the symphony of screams. The woman was flying on a golden glider looking device with a skin tight blue holographic suit with an orange cloak wrapping around her features with a devilish jackolatern mask on.

“Who the hell is that?” She asks to no one as she swung up to catch up to the maniac, “Hey Spooky!”

Maria sticks a web onto the glider and propels herself into the air before slamming down on top of the villain. The woman shrieks as she falls off her glider with the spider until the glider follows them down. The villainess throws a purple bomb at the girl before her glider catches her. The teenager shoots a web onto a near by building and catches the bomb. 

“No thanks, I’m not on interested in what you’re cooking.” She throws the bomb into the air before it explodes. However, instead of smoke, an orange portal appears as a strong suction causes the spider’s grip to slip and fly into the air. “Hey!” She yells as she gets pulled into the portal.

~~~~~~~

A scream echos through the Lobby as a flaying spider falls down from a portal. Hobie rolls his eyes while Jessica looks up unimpress. 

“Another newbie?” She asks as the spider girl catches herself on a walk way above the duo. 

“I don’t know.” The rocker mumbles as he tunes his guitar. “You know that they normally end up in some alternate dimension where the floor is lave or some shite.”

The spider girl looks around her in shock as she sees millions of other spider people walking around her and she begins to hyperventilates. “No no no no. Please Please don’t tell me I’m dead……”  

Jessica frowns hearing a young voice panicking and she whistles up at the girl. 

“Hey, Newbie! Come here for a minute.”

Maria swings down as the older woman takes off her googles, her warm eyes brings the younger girl to ease enough to ask,

“W-where am I?”

Hobie chuckles, thinking that the girl was confused after failing to jump. “You’re in the Lobby, remember? Didn’t Sunny give you a tour?” 

“Sunny? Whose that?” Maria looks at the duo confused as Hobie takes off his mask to look at the girl more closely. 

Jessica looks at the girl suspiciously as Hobie examines the masked girl. “Your suit is certainly different. It kinda looks like O’ Hara’s.”

Maria jumps at the mention of her last name and faces Hobie as her patience snaps. “How did you know that? And who are you guys and why are you guys dresssed lik-”

The manic girl halts as she hears a familiar voice call out from above. 

“Hey,guys!” The gentle voice calls out as she swings down from several platforms above with a friendly smile plastered on her unmasked face. Hobie and Jessica return her smile as she lands infront of them. Maria stares in horror as the duo greets the cheery spider.

“Oi, Sunny, whatcha swing up to,love?” Hobie jokes as he hugs the woman he viewed as his friend and sister figure. 

“Boss man sent me out to look at what fell through the portal while Lyla was rebooting.” She says calmly as Jessica scoffs. Miguel sending Sunny out to check something out? Nope, thats not how he ran things. He would rather send out everyone else before he would dare risk his sol getting injured.

“Boss sent you to check out a portal?” The beautiful woman asks as Sunny rubs the back of her neck, clearly leaving out some details.

“Well, an anomalous Hobgoblin managed to hack into Lyla’s systems and shut her down so it can escape…Our comms are down too..He said to get Hobie and Ben so they can investigate the scene actually…” The jumping spider admits as she feels her cheeks warm in embarrassment. 

Jessica chuckles at her friend’s confession as she remembers the new spider who was silent the whole time they were speaking.

“Oh yeah, well this new recruit came out of the portal.”She shrugs as she directed Sunny to the small blue spider woman. “You really need to give these new guys better directions for portal jumping.”

The now confused woman shakes her head as she looks at Maria before looking back at Jessica. 

“There aren’t any new recruits.” She states as she frowns at the still masked girl as she walks up to her. “Hey, whats your name, honey?” She asks in her familiar concerned voice that Maria just heard this morning.

It was her mother…well at least someone who looks like her mother. She was several years younger than her mom, clearly in her mid to late twenties. Other than that, she was her. Even down to the same facial markers and the always warm edge of her voice. What really drawn her back was the fact her mom, or this woman that looked like her was wearing a black spider suit like her own with white along her chest and inner lining of her limbs. 

“Holy shit…” The girl gasps at the woman before she slowly reaches up and removes her mask. Her dark eyes peers back at her ‘mother’s’ in shock before mumbling, “Mama?”

“Mama!?” Jessica screams in surprise before she quickly studies the now unmasked girl and the paling spiderwoman. The similar way their wide eyes meet each other while their matching jawlines stuck in an a gasps expression. They definitely looked the part…

(Y/N) was the first one to move as she slowly lifts her trembling hands up to the girl’s face and cups it in a gentle grasp. She carefully traces her features with a haunted look on her face, almost like she was looking for something in her face, or maybe someone. As realization forms in her face that this was in fact her child, tears began to bubble in her waterline as her lips trembled.

“You’re my baby?...I have a daughter…” She says outloud before gently tracing under Maria’s eye with a look of disbelief and love. Maria’s own eyes burn as she sees her mother’s face in her clone as she nods. “Yea…My name is Maria…Maria O’Hara.”

And with that new revelation, the cheery spider faints due to the shock while Jessica yells out for help while Hobie was frozen due to the fact that not only that Miguel O’Hara and his delightful sidekick have a child from a different dimension, but that she was actually hot.

~~~~~~~

Safe to say, Miguel was not happy. 

After Lyla successfully rebooted and came back online, Miguel went to dimension 1784-B and recaptured the Hobgoblin. He never felt such satisfaction than when he tackled the flying witch out of the sky and tore apart her glider with his bare hands. He wasn’t very pleased that the villain easily gotten her hands on one of the gizmos and some prototype traps he was working on, so he made sure that the femal hobgoblin would never dare attempt to do anything like that again.

.After he returned to the surveillance platform, his annoyance grew as he hears that not only did some spider woman he had no idea about came into the Lobby, but that some incident caused his sunshine to be taken to the infirmary. 

“Lyla,” The annoyed man calls to the AI as he walks towards the infirmary. A tiny version of his fur coat wearing digital assistant appears on his shoulder as he focuses ahead of him with a glare. He can practically feel all the blood vessels in his hand pop as clenched his fist as he thought about all the ways he was going to say to the woman who had the nerve to injure his amor. “Give me all the information on this spider.”

“Yes ‘Miggy’” Lyla teases as she pulls up the file. “Spiderwoman 1784-B aka Maria O’Hara. 18 years old and has been spiderwoman for 2 years. A student at NYU with an undecided major and lives with her two younger brothers, Gabriel and Ben O’ Hara and her parents…Oh Shit!” 

The miniature AI starts laughing as she clenches her stomach. Miguel growls at Lyla’s outburst and seethes. “What is it?”

As she recovers, she throws up a projection infront of him with a smirk. “Check this out. You and Sunny do get a happy ending!” 

Miguel freezes as his wide eyes look at the image infront of him with a tremble in his form. The image displayed was a family picture that was clearly taken at a high school graduation with a family of five huddled together with wide grins splitting their loving faces. The first to catch his attention was the vision of him standing beside a teenage girl with a boy no older than seven on his shoulders with a look of happiness and pride in his gaze as one arm was slung across the girl’s shoulder. He was clearly older than he was now, but the lack of red eyes and fangs made Miguel nearly not recognize him. Its been so long since he’s seen himself before becoming spiderman… The next thing that caught his attention was an older version of his beloved also smiling at the camera with a teenage boy on your side a gentle hand placed on his shoulder as the woman’s attention was focus gazing a her daughter with such joy.

The children were a perfect mixture of you both despite the obvious favour in appearance being on his side. He carefully examines each child and their features as he releases a shaky breath as a single tear escapes his eye. 

This was impossible…How can you two have a family somewhere in the spiderverse and he didn’t know? the two have a family…they got married…she gave him the most beautiful children he could ever dream of and they both weren’t spidermen…they met and fell in love with out the worry of the universe on their shoulders…But their daughter…Their girl has this…burden instead…

“Miguel?” The unease in the AI’s voice brings him back to reality as he rubs his eyes. 

“I’m fine.” He snaps as he materializes his mask back onto his face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So we are all connected by this weird multiverse of spidermen?” Maria questions as she quips an eyebrow as she looks at the other teen.

“Yep.” Gwen nods as she leans back in the chair. 

The group were huddled around the hospital bed as their cheerful friend laid in bed unconscious. Upon pouncing the new spider about her life and what life was like on her dimension, Gwen took the initiative and began explaining about the Spiderverse, careful to avoid talking about the girl’s variant spider parents.

“And this is a team of Spiderpeople that goes around and makes sure that the events of their life goes on course? Like the time police? Does that mean theres other versions of me? “ She rapidly askes the punk. The blonde chuckles as she can definitely see how much of Sunny was actually in this girl. 

“Yep and kinda like that. We make sure the canon goes as planned so your universe doesn’t collapse. And when it comes to the other versions of you…” Gwen looks towards the unconscious spider before meet her ‘daughter’s’ curious gaze. “If theres other versions of Sunny and Miguel, then there is other versions of you.”

“Wait. Is there a spiderman version of my dad?” She asks as the door opens.

Jessica looks up from watching her phone and smiles at Miguel while Hobie curses. Miguel’s mask fades away as Hobie begins to speak.

“Look boss, the kid didn’t mean to…”

“Are you alright, Maria?” Miguel’s uncharacteristicially soft voice interrupts Hobie’s defense as his ruby eyes locked on the girl.

His rapid heart flooded his senses as he looked over his ‘daughter’. She didn’t look like Gabriella like he thought he would, even though he already seen her face. She looked like his sunshine despite her having a majority of his features. She was his girl, his beloved’s child…

“Um yea…”The starstruck girl mumbles as she looks at the variant of her father. Unlike the unconscious variant of her mom, the age wasn’t the biggest indicate that he was different from her dad, it was the gentle red eyes and the fangs peeking out from his lips. “Holy shit, you’re cool…” She accidentially admits out loud which causes the man to chuckle.

“Oye, no maldigas delante de tus padres, pequeña araña.” He playfully scolds before he starts fiddling with his gizmo. “I think its time you head home now. Its almost time for dinner and I’m sure ‘I’ wouldn’t like for you to be late.”

A portal opens beside them as Maria smiles at Miguel. “Cool…can I have one of those?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well it was worth a try.” Maria giggles as she walks up to the portal before looking at Miguel concerned. “What about that Hobgoblin? And about…” The teenager looks towards her sleeping ‘mom’.

“I took care of it for you and don’t worry about her.” Miguel chuckles as he gazes lovingly at his love. “Yo siempre cuido de tu madre, ¿no?”

Maria grins as she feels giddy over the idea that no matter what dimension, her parents will always love each other.

“Yep and word of advice, stop having kids after one!” She jokes as she steps into the portal and goes home.

~~~~~~~

A soft groan emits from the bed as Miguel looks up from his book. The sleepy eyes of his love meets his as he leans over and caresses his cheek. 

“Good morning, mi amor…you had a good rest?” He coos as he pushes the hair away from her face. 

Tears prickle in her sleepy gaze as the memory of her new friend came back. In a horse whisper, she tearfully asks, “Did you see her? Did you meet our girl?” A smile forms on her face as Miguel nods and rests his forehead against hers.

“Sí, mi amor. Y ella era perfecta.”

~~~~~~

As the portal closes behind her, Maria looks around with a breath of relief as she sees shes in her bedroom back home. 

“Thank god that’s over-!”

Before the stress could finally leave her chest, a shattering sound of a phone screen snaps her attention to her brother Gabriel looking at her in shock. Maria looks horrified as she realizes she is in the middle of her bedroom in her spidersuit and unmasked infront of her little brother…

“SHIT!!!”

~~~~~~~~

Translations:

¡Tu madre ya te llamó dos veces! ¡Baja y come!- Your mother already called you twice! Come down and eat!

Chicos, no le faltéis al respeto a vuestro padre. La única razón por la que tu madre puede hacerlo es porque me echará de la cama.-You boys don't disrespect your father. The only reason your mother can is because she'll kick me out of bed.

¡¿Qué diablos dijiste?!- What the hell did you say?!

¡¡Miguel, no te atrevas a maldecir en la mesa de mi comedor!!- Miguel, don't you dare curse at my dining room table!!

Oye, no maldigas delante de tus padres, pequeña araña.- Hey, don't curse in front of your parents, little spider.

Yo siempre cuido de tu madre, ¿no?-I always take care of your mother, don't I?

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@ameliadraws 

@tojisrightnut

@whyareyoubored

@silly-lovestruck-em

@luvil1y

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@mariaatp

[wttcsms]

i can’t believe yall let me forget abt my concept of reverse grumpy x sunshine where it’s READER who’s the cold, stand off-ish ceo and it’s sugawara who’s the completely normal ray of sunshine who is kinda going through it. you have a child w the first and only boy who broke your heart (and subsequently made u the cold blooded woman you are now) but as your grandfather is getting closer to croaking, his lawyers come around and you realize something very, very terrible: any claim to ur inheritance is barred by the simple stipulation of you needing to be married. whatever. a marriage is just another type of business partnership. except grandfather dearest wants to see his favorite granddaughter - you - genuinely happy.

he won’t accept what he considers to be a disingenuous marriage. you don’t have many actors on speed dial. and if you’re going to have to act like a happy family, you at least want someone who is kind to your kid.

enter in mr. sugawara, who during a parent teacher conference gives you an awkward smile as he pulls you to the side and lets you know that your child has repeatedly accidentally called him “dad” on several occasions.

he’s kinda cute. so when he’s done with his assessment of ur child, you tilt your head and change sugawara’s world when you ask him, “do you want to get married?”

[yuujispinkhair]

ILL SCREAM!!!! always scoffs whenever jin asks sukuna to watch over yuuji bcos of work or he's got to do something but he does it anyway and the cupboards are full of yuujis favourite sweets and it becomes a routine where yuuji forces a cuddle out of sukuna and then beelines to one specific cupboard thats low enough for him to reach and its stocked to the nines and sukuna threatens that hes gonna eat them all and none are for yuuji cos hes a big meanie!! obviously its a lie but yuuji has to earn them sweets!!! 😤😤 aka doing his homework, drawing sukuna a picture that he begrudgingly puts up on his fridge and go to the park first!!

AWWW, he acts so annoyed and as if he is the WORST uncle and no one should ever give him their child blah blah blah. But clearly, it isn't true.

Yuuji loves his uncle Sukuna! Uncle Sukuna is funny, and he lets Yuuji eat all the sweets he wants. He tells Yuuji all those super interesting stories about ancient Japan and good and evil and takes him to the park to chase him around like some maniac while Yuuji is screaming and laughing at the top of his lungs. Uncle Sukuna is also a super good cook, and Yuuji always complains at home that the meatballs his dad makes don't taste as good as the ones uncle Sukuna makes!!

And Jin knows all those things. He would never give his cute little sunshine to a guy who doesn't like Yuuji. But Jin knows his twin. He can see right through the tough facade Sukuna likes to put on! After all, who was the one who always made sure the other kids didn't make fun of Jin's glasses or his soft heart? Who was the one who stood before Jin when Wasuke got angry and shouted at his sons?

Jin knows that no matter how grumpy Sukuna is, his heart always has a soft spot for the few people he loves, and his little nephew Yuuji is definitely one of those people.

[j0elmill3r]

The End Of All Things

Pairing - Joel Miller x  Young!Daughter!Reader

Summary - The one where Joel loses fucking everything - including his youngest daughter.

Warnings - Child death, angst, character death, sad Joel, emotional trauma?

A/N - Is this thing on? Yes, I'm back, maybe not as much as I once was but im back! Stay tuned for updates!

Word count - 2.2k words of pure, unadulterated angst.

Joel Miller was not a god-fearing man.

And given the current circumstances, he feared he may now be facing the consequences of it. Living in a post-apocalyptic world, having lost his daughter. Well, his oldest daughter. He still had you, his last bit of sunshine in the dark world that the survivors of the cordyceps infection now found themselves living in. You were only 3 years old at the beginning of the outbreak, meaning you weren't quite old enough to remember your older sister, Sarah, but Joel was thankful that you weren't old enough to remember her death - it did, however, break his heart that you would never remember how much she loved you. You were lucky enough to not understand the severity of what had happened the night of the outbreak, just that in the days following you sat squashed between a backpack and your dad's back. It was fortunate that you had found an abandoned farmhouse in a secluded area that Joel had deemed safe enough for you to lay low in for a while - the 'a while' in this case is the past 4 years. You liked to play outside, but only where Joel or your Uncle Tommy could see you - Joel especially needed the closure of knowing where you were at all times, he couldn't lose you, especially after losing your sister, who your memories off had slowly faded, her face one you couldn't make out anymore.

Joel liked to tell you stories about Sarah, about how at first she wasn't entirely thrilled about no longer having all of her dad's attention, but how quickly she'd grown to love you; About how she used to help you build a fort in your room to read you stories in, often ending up in both of you falling asleep in it, leaving Joel to find and put you both to bed. The stories your dad told you always brought a sombre smile to his face and a glaze of tears in his eyes, which he tried to hide from you. As Joel finished up his telling of sleeping beauty to you, you fell into a coughing fit.

"Woah, it's okay baby," Joel assured you, sitting you up and rubbing your back. What was coming never crossed his mind. "Here," He handed you the glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand of the room you slept in, watching as you gulped down half of the glass. "That better?" He asked you, pushing your hair back from your face as you lay back down.

"Yeah, thanks daddy," Your speech sounded a bit slurred to Joel, but he put it down to you being tired. Your dad kissed the top of your head as he tucked you in.

"Goodnight baby girl, I love you," Joel told you quietly, noticing that you had already started drifting off to sleep. As he left your room, he duly noted your symptoms, a pit opening up in his stomach as he started thinking through all of the symptoms of the Cordyceps infection that had been broadcast by FEDRA. He managed to somehow gaslight himself into thinking that children your age were immune to the infection.

The next morning, however, confirmed Joel's worst fears.

You were infected.

Your mood change was the biggest indicator. You were agitable and grumpy, something that Joel could confidently say you never were. He tried not to get angry or upset with you during the course of the day, he hoped you were unaware of the infection that was attacking your brain and body,  and ultimately be the cause of your death. Tommy, while upset at the expectant loss of his last living niece, had agreed to let Joel spend your last day with him and only him. He'd go on a run to try and find a strong enough sedative for you. Joel, had somehow managed to source some paint and paper.

"Y/N, come here," He said gently, trying not to upset you, since you had thrown a tantrum over the way he had spoken to you previously. You tentatively took his hand and let him lead you out to the porch, where he had set up a rolling tray he'd found in the attic and filled with paint.

"What are we doing?" Your speech had gotten more slurred since last night, further confirming your infection. Joel sat down behind you and sat you between his legs, your back to his chest as he pulled the tray forward.

"We're gonna make your handprints, baby," He said, the same tone as before, carefully dipping your hands in the paint tray and then onto the paper. He quietly sighed as you tried to resist, but he was quickly able to overpower you.

"Why?" You asked, your tone irritated. Joel couldn't tell you the real reason why. That you were doing this so he could keep a piece you with him all the time because you were dying, but you didn't need to know that.

"Because..." Joel scrambled for an excuse, he realistically knew anything would do, due to the fact that your brain probably didn't have much function left before you became like the runners. "I want to remember you being this little." Because you won't get to be any bigger than this. The thought made Joel tear up even more. The small blue handprints brought a small smile to his face, although it didn't last long, as you looked up at him, he could tell by the absent stare in your eyes that you didn't have much long left before you became nothing more than the victim of the infection running rampant in your body.

"Okay?" You asked in reference to your handprints, lethargically running your hands down your dads shirt, marking it a royal blue, a bright contrast against the black material of his shirt. He sniffled and nodded, picking you and your handprints up and bringing you indoors.

"They're perfect, baby girl," He put them on the table to dry and went over to the dusty sofa, he didn't care much for the dust on the sofa, just wanting to hold you close for a while until Tommy came back. As much as Joel knew this was the right thing to do, to keep his memories of you as his happy baby, he didn't want Tommy to come back with the drugs that would aid in killing you - but he also knew that it wouldn't be fair to let you become one of those...things. You didn't deserve that, at least this way, you would go peacefully, being held by your dad. The sound of Tommy pulling into the driveway didn't even alert you in the slightest, but to your now severely under-functioning brain, you were just happy to be with your dad. Tommy came in, a box in one hand and a solemn look on his face as he looked over at his older brother, who sat holding his daughter. He went upstairs to retrieve the half empty glass of water in your room, crushing up the sedative pills and mixing them into the water, tears springing to his eyes at what's about to happen. If he felt like this, he couldn't imagine how Joel was feeling. He grabbed your teddy before going downstairs, handing the glass to Joel, and your teddy to you. "Y/N?" It took you a minute before you hummed in response. "You know I love you so much, don't you?"

"Yeah daddy," You slurred out. Joel didn't know if he could do this. He didn't want to think of all the lasts with you. That last night was the last time he'd ever put you to bed and tuck you in, that those stories he told you of Sarah would be the last stories you would ever hear. But the more he thought of the thing you would become if he didn't do this, the more he knew it was the right thing. He handed you the glass and watched as you gulped the rest down, unaware of why the water was so cloudy, or why it tasted so bitter. You gave the glass back to your dad, who then handed it back to his brother. Joel put both arms around you, so that you knew he was there, if your brain could still function enough to recognise him. The rising and falling of your chest became less rhythmic, until it just stopped completely. The dam building behind Joel's eyes finally burst, the realisation that you were gone now fully hitting him; He hugged your lifeless body as he sobbed, fully realising that both of his baby girls were gone.

-16 years later-

Joel had changed, a lot. After all, the deaths of both his daughters would do that to a person. He hadn't seen Tommy in months, and had now somehow adopted a stray cat of a girl who was immune to the infection - Oddly enough, she reminded him of you, but painfully of your death. You would be alive if you were immune, you'd be 23 years old now, but instead, you've been gone longer than you ever got to live for. If the whole thing hadn't ever happened, Sarah would be 34, Joel often thought about you both, how you'd get along, if either of you would have had kids, how you would have looked; if you would have outgrown your baby face.

But that's all they were, they were only what if's.

He kicked a log over to pose as a bench for himself and Ellie to sit on, huffing as he sat down, his entire body aching from the days toil. Forgetting about the girl beside him, he pulled out a worn piece of paper, the quarter lines prominent where the shapes of small, blue handprints could be made out - Ellie noted that the shade of blue matched that of the stains marking Joel's shirt.

"What's that?" She asked Joel, peering over his shoulder to get a peek at what he was holding. He gave a glare, more fatherly than anything, and she backed off to give him space. He let out a sigh and looked at the paper, deep in thought.

"My daughter's handprints," He said quietly, unable to face Ellie. She was confused, Joel said that Sarah had died when she was 14, and those were pretty small hands for a 14 year old, although she couldn't say much, she hadn't really met any other 14 year olds.

"But you said-" "I know. They're not Sarah's," Joel cut Ellie off, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself. "They're my youngest daughter, Y/N's. She died when she was 7," He told Ellie, who fiddled with her hands nervously, unsure of what to say next, Joel, sensing the unease from the girl, continued, "It was about 4 years into this whole thing, we'd found a farmhouse in the countryside where we laid low for a bit, but I didn't know you were more likely to catch it out in those areas, so I let her play outside all the time, I noticed she was sick the night before she died, but I didn't think she was infected." Joel finished, his voice breaking. Ellie pretended that she hadn't heard it, instead opting for a probably worse alternative.

"So...she became like...them?" She asked. It sent Joel down a hole. Thinking of what would have happened to you if he didn't do what he did. Some say that the infected person is still in there, like a prisoner in their own body. He couldn't bear the thought of you like that, he'd seen how those people end up, blinded, scarred faces, nightmare fuel. He shook his head with a sniffle, still unable to face looking at the girl.

"No, I spent her last day with her while my brother went and got heavy sedatives, I wouldn't have let her end up like that. So I have these handprints I made with her," He said, gently tracing over the handprints of his youngest child, so gentle that you would think that the slightest gust of wind would turn the paper to ash. Ellie noticed the shakiness of Joel's hand, unsure of what to do, she put her hand on his back. "What are you doing?" He asked her, thinking she'd upset him, she took her hand away.

"Sorry, I was trying to make you feel better," She said sheepishly, unable to meet his hard stare. Ellie reminded him so much of Sarah - and of you. He might not have you both with him anymore, but he has small parts of you, parts of you he sees in Ellie.

[lovelytsunoda]

INDYCAR DRIVERS AS ROMANCE BOOK TROPES

summary: I give romance tropes to my favourite funky indycar men. if y’all actually want to see me do any of these, please tell me in the comments 🫣

dedicated to my bestie @magnummagnussen who helped ghostwrite and give her ideas on a few of the tropes! (sorry for not including sting ray bestie, I have his trope to callum!)

pato o ward

reverse grumpy sunshine!!! pato is a bright ball of sunshine and in an ideal romance book he would pair with a girl who is a little grumpy (just a little bit) and cynical about falling in love and then dear sweet patricio would sweep in and show her just how magical being in love can be and show her that soulmates are real and life doesn’t have to be doom and gloom all the time

josef newgarden

single dad x nanny trope! I can see this playing out as recently widowed josef (probably not the right word) struggling to balance being the only caregiver for his son next to his racing career. cue y/n, the nanny he hires to watch after his son while he’s away and competing. he’s scared to fall in love again because he’s still grieving what he once had, but his son grows attached to y/n and how could josef not fall in love with someone his son loves so much?

kyle kirkwood

second chance romance! he lost her once, and now that she’s back in his life he won’t give her up!! the way I see this one playing out is that maybe they were together before kyle made it to the big leagues, back when nobody in america knew his name. but while she was deciding which ivy league scholarship to choose, Kyle is thinking about his career. she gives him an ultimatum, and he picks racing. so she goes to her big fancy school and forgets about him. but when a family tragedy brings her back to florida and she comes face to face with kyle, who is now a grand prix winner, hes desperate to keep her from being the one who got away.

colton herta

accidental pregnancy!! their relationship was falling apart, the distance and the pressures of colton’s career. eating them alive. words were said that couldn’t be taken back. so they called it quits, he moved to nashville and she tried to keep her head down and finish school. until she missed her period. her world seems to be ending with those two little lines, but she still cares about him. she can’t just keep coltons child a secret from him, this disaster is as much his fault as it is hers. so she goes to indiana the weekend before the 500 and she tells him. tensions are running high between them both, but they’re trying to do right by each other and the baby, and the experience reminds them that maybe they were meant to be together all along.

marcus armstrong

brothers best friend!!! y/n ilott knows that marcus is off limits. since she was fifteen she’s thought all her brothers friends were gross anyways. marcus was always by far the most annoying. fast forward a few years and they’re racing together in the same series again and suddenly marcus armstrong isn’t a gross as she remembers. and has his voice always been that sexy?? but callum can NEVER know.

david malukas

wrong number! let’s face it this man is too lazy to make contacts for half of the names in his phone. he was so sure that was sting rays number. why wouldn’t it be, the man from idaho had typed it in himself. turns out, it wasn’t sting ray at all, but some random college student who lived over a thousand miles away. he starts to text her when she gets bored, eventually progressing to face time calls, and begins to get flustered once he has a face to put with the personality. ends with him flying out to meet in her in person.

christian lundgaard

fake dating! he shouldn’t have done it. every bone in his body told him not to do it but the panicked look on her face was enough to make christian agree to pretend to be her boyfriend to scare off her cheating ex boyfriend, who was making her seriously uncomfortable. it was just supposed to be for the weekend, until the guy started leaving her alone. but a lot can happen on one race weekend and suddenly it doesn’t seem so fake anymore.

callum ilott

childhood friends to lovers! they were always just supposed to be friends, but if that’s the case, why does callum hate her new boyfriend now that the relationship is getting serious? why does y/n still feel like something is missing? cue a drunken night out leading to the hottest sex callum has ever had and lingering questions on both sides about what they really truly want out of life and love.

TAGS:

@clemswrld @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiasundays @scuderiamh @lorarri

[theywantedplayer]

Request- can u do Baby can you please shut the fuck up?” With Quinn I’ve always pictured him being the grumpy, one in the sunshine, X grumpy, trope

It was late at night quinn was exhausted already in bed about to fall asleep but you kept asking more and more questions about what his family was like.

Tomorrow you and Quinn were supposed to fly out and see Quinn’s whole family and you were a bit nervous. You had your back to the beds headboard as you looked over your flights and Quinn’s back was to you trying to get some sleep.

“What does your mom like? Should I get her something”

“What about your dad I’ve never talked to him”

“Oh and jack and Luke! Sure I haven’t seen them in so long, what if they’ve changed! I won’t know what to do”

“And what if your parents don’t like me , OH MY GOD WHAT IF THEY DONT LIKE ME!” You panicked

Quinn rolled over to face you, eyes squinting at the brightness of the laptop screen.

“Baby can you please shut the fuck up?” He groaned “their gonna like you ok” he told as he pushed your laptop screen down and placed it on his bedside table.

“And no jack and Luke have not changed, Jack is still a small child and Luke’s still an antisocial giant it’s gonna be fine, know can we please go to bed” he whined

You lade down beside him face to face

“I know im sorry im just nervous” you apologized “like what happeneds if your mom asks me a question and I don’t know the answer and she thinks I’m dumb or or! They think I’m some stupid puck bunny” you started rambling again

“Shhhh no no I’m not doing this again” Quinn groaning pushing your face into his chest to silence your worries. He could still hear you worrying into his chest about stupid things that would never happen.

When you ended up stoping he whispered in your ear

“Their gonna love you”

You moved your face out of his chest to look at him.you could barely make out his face in the dark room only seeing the hair sticking up in all the places

“Are you sure?” You asked again

“Of course im sure, their gonna love you” he reassured kissing your forehead “now can we please go to sleep”

[deanoheartspie]

Sunshine

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...

Warnings: None

A/N: Y/h/c (hair color) tell me what you think!

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•°Y/N POV°•

My whole life depended on my parents, even though I wanted to leave they made me believe I couldn't do anything on my own and it was in my best interest for me to blindly follow what they wanted.

But... What about what I wanted?

After I ran out on my wedding day because everything was set up and my family was money-hungry greedy whores. I decide to leave and start fresh...even though that meant going to my Aunt Laura's house whom I haven't seen in years.

Driving through the cute little town, while people talked on the sidewalks and had conversations with people without their phones in hand.

NEIGH NEIGH NEIGH

Slamming to a complete stop, I hadn't seen the horse due to the distractions. Noticing a man on it and his head whips around practically glaring at me while he walks over to the car knocking on the window

“What the hell is wrong with you sweetheart?” He asked with his gruff deep voice, that had a hint of an accent.

“I didn't mean to... Is he okay?” I looked up at him, getting a good look at his bright green eyes and freckles on his face.

“She. It's a she. Nope, she got grazed by a woman who couldn't pay attention to the road. Oopsie daisies” The man grumbled placing a hand on his hips, the sun perfectly shining on him to show all his facial features.

I look at him and cross my arms, he sure was a grumpy man. “500 dollar ticket here ya go sweetheart. Damages and all” he said with a smirk sliding the ticket over.

“I grazed the horse not murder it!” I shout out handing him the ticket back, he slightly glares as he tosses it in your car.

“Oh, honey you should be happy that it was my horse and not my car.” He huffed out, walking away and gently pulling the horse to the sidewalk.

When I have the chance, I drive past him and start driving up to my aunts. Fields and fields of grass, cows, and horses scattered around I couldn't help but scrunch my nose. If I'm being quite honest... I've never been a big fan of animals, but I guess I'll have to deal with it while I'm here. Let's just hope they don't get too close.

Pulling up to the driveway, of the beautiful farmhouse that was a little old but sure as hell something you wouldn't find back in the city.

“Oh my! Y/n! You got so big!” before I could even register the person I got squished into a hug that ended by an older gruff voice chirps in.

“Laura, your going to squish her to death” He crosses his arm with a smile, my favorite uncle well...it was either between Daniel my dad's older brother who was a pain in the ass, or Clayton who was just chill. So of course, clay would be my favorite.

“Auntie Laura and Uncle Clay! How have you both been?”

They both have smiles on their faces, the last time I had seen them I was a kid who loved it out here... Times have changed.

“Wonderful! We had to get a ranch hand since this oldie is getting frail even though he doesn't want to admit it.” Laura teasingly mutters tugging me up the creaky porch and handing me a sweet tea.

Scrunching my nose at the sweetness, but I had to admit it was one of the best I've ever tasted so I'll give her that. I ran a hand through my y/h/c hair with a sigh slipping out, as I grab the ticket out of my pocket.

“Oh, dear! Did you get pulled over? What for?” My aunt asks curiously, with a head tilt.

“I accidentally grazed a horse... But you can barely tell, the guy was an ass.” I mutter under my breath, Leaning against the white chipped pillar.

My uncle looks at me with a raised brow, while crossing his arms with a grin. I look at him confused when I turn around to see who he looking at.

“Well hello darlin.” The green eyes look down at me, with a smirk.

Well fuck.

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Chapter 2

----Tag list----

@deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @hobby27 @khaleesihavilliard @foxyjwls007 @lucidlivi @globetrotter28 @beskarfilms @jc-winchester @screaming-les-bean @jas-loves-stitch

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Duck Adam au :

Sunshine to Grumpy at some point :

Sunshine : Mama why dont i have a dad ?

Duck Adam : ...

Sunshine : i want a dad mama

Adam: Umm, you see that guy over there in the top hat with the crown? Consider him your dad.

Sunshine: Gasp! Is that why he calls you his princess?

Adam: No more questions child, go to bed.